Deck the Oregon with Bras of Holly
There were a myriad of background characters at each and every party we ever threw at the Oregon. The reason being is that our inviting method had a huge flaw in it. We would tell our friends about it and then we would say the words " bring whoever." Now if you’ve ever said those words before then you know from experience that whoever is not always a very welcome guest. Not all of them per se but if asses show en mass it can ruin a party and quick. Well the Oregon was filled every weekend to capacity and beyond. Some of our friends were just as crazy as we are and fit right in. Others fall the wayside and would sit and observe the party patiently waiting for that moment of craziness such as a ruckus or the occasional stripping drunken lady friend. One such lady friend was a girl named Holly. She was a very flirty girl sober but once booze was in the mix it was like Mrs. Robinson making Dusten Hoffman crazy uncomfortable. It seemed that ten times out of five she’d be stripped to her knickers or groped by a random partygoer. For example even though this story takes place in 2001 as most Oregon stories do she let someone grope her for gas money. http://drrobinson.blogspot.com/2006/07/oregon-year-one-tale-of-young-pancho.html That’s back when gas cost less then a dollar a gallon. It was always a love/hate relationship when she would show up because at first it was funny watching her make an ass out of herself with her soft-core antics, but it always degenerated into a pukefest, babysitting fiasco.
One such evening the Oregon crew was kicking off it’s Friday night extravaganza. Joe and I worked at HP Products at the time and worked until nine so Dan would start off hosting duties until we would be able to join him. Back then I had it down to a working formula where I would walk in from work and grab my clothes and towel and a bottle of Galen’s 151 vodka and adjourn myself to the shower. Once there I’d wash work away and guzzle the alcohol sting of vodka to catch up with what I had missed while at work. Once cleansed and properly buzzed I’d join Dan and Joe at the corner booth for our ritualistic High Stakes Drinking Games and Fun Time Hours. These high stakes drinking games are what brings about the fun stories you all enjoy reading from the comfort of knowing it wasn’t you who did these things. All of our adventures for the most part originated from the corner booth and I have to say that it was like our oft times sticky, dirty, flour hiding, family center where the whole crew gathered. Much like the hearth was back when families loved each other enough to spend time together in front of a roaring fire, but I digress. Holly showed up one eve and true to her formula was fully clothed but yearning of some of the sweet libations that lead to her complete loss of any decency and dignity she tenuously held onto.
After some drinks she had a little more and after that she had a lot more. It became apparent pretty quickly that this wasn’t going to be the soft-core gropefest that our more indiscriminating friends were hoping for. She came down with Dan and myself to Dairy Mart to get more cheap cigars when I tell Dan that I ran into my friend Amelia there just the other day. Holly goes crazy with drink because she’s also friends with Amelia and begs us to take her over to Amelia’s house to invite her out. Seems like a great idea because Amelia is a very good person and Holly would probably attach herself onto her instead of any random guy at our party. We’d get a cool person to hang out with and a babysitter for our sweet drunken chickpea. So off we went into the night to send out emissaries of drunken debauchery to Amelia’s house. We took Holly’s car and Dan and I sat in the back while Holly sat in the passenger seat giving directions to the driver. It was a bit cramped because Holly had some groceries in the car from earlier. We arrive at a good size domicile with a yard full of trees and we park at the end. Our driver who I can’t remember right now threw the keys back to Holly who didn’t even attempt to catch them. We all started up the drive towards the house like we were the drunken Reservoir Dogs. Till Dan made mention of the bags in the car. Holly at this point starts to laugh hysterically and then slips into a realm of crazy reserved for lunatics and the clergy. She rumbles (mixture of stumbles and runs) back to the car and pulls the bags out and states in a demeanor that makes one wonder if this was her real intention all along that we should toilet paper all the trees and such. Our driver is stoked and starts to help her get ready. Dan and I feel that this is a little beneath us having matured to better pranks and levels vandalism naturally. It's high up here on our pedestal. Across the way stands horses in a wooden fenced in area. Dan and I quietly and carefully break down a portion of the fence and then stir the horses up a bit. We walk back towards our ride knowing that if the horses wander into the next yard it will be all kinds of funny even if we never find out what happened. Sudenly, lights come on at Amelia’s and Holly panics and that’s when we realize that she doesn’t have the keys. Her booze-o-matic decides that this is a good time to tell her brain to shut her legs and arms off. So here we are retracing her steps to find the keys, which are of course, right next to the car while she sits like a sack of potatoes that we have to stow into the car.
We get into the car and drive off back to the Oregon where we chuck Holly on the drunk tank mattress and go about having a great rest of the party. By this time Doctor Robinson has been off work for a bit and joins the fray to hear what we’ve been up to. Some time goes by and the Holly Zombie stirs and keys in tow strives like hell to leave. We go out after her and Dan runs up next to the car. She runs his foot over and stops only after Dan falls to the ground. That’s when she decides that she is too drunk to drive. Not the fact that we are chasing her around drunk as well. Nor the fact that we had someone else drive out to Amelia’s house. Not even the fact that we left her to sleep it off on our drunk tank. No no it took running a man’s foot over. Well we took her back into the house and Dan got to end the evening in more pain then he started with. That’s how it went sometimes at the Oregon. Sometimes you had great adventures with little to no injury. Other times….. Well those are stories for a later date.
See you all further on down the road.
Mike
One such evening the Oregon crew was kicking off it’s Friday night extravaganza. Joe and I worked at HP Products at the time and worked until nine so Dan would start off hosting duties until we would be able to join him. Back then I had it down to a working formula where I would walk in from work and grab my clothes and towel and a bottle of Galen’s 151 vodka and adjourn myself to the shower. Once there I’d wash work away and guzzle the alcohol sting of vodka to catch up with what I had missed while at work. Once cleansed and properly buzzed I’d join Dan and Joe at the corner booth for our ritualistic High Stakes Drinking Games and Fun Time Hours. These high stakes drinking games are what brings about the fun stories you all enjoy reading from the comfort of knowing it wasn’t you who did these things. All of our adventures for the most part originated from the corner booth and I have to say that it was like our oft times sticky, dirty, flour hiding, family center where the whole crew gathered. Much like the hearth was back when families loved each other enough to spend time together in front of a roaring fire, but I digress. Holly showed up one eve and true to her formula was fully clothed but yearning of some of the sweet libations that lead to her complete loss of any decency and dignity she tenuously held onto.
After some drinks she had a little more and after that she had a lot more. It became apparent pretty quickly that this wasn’t going to be the soft-core gropefest that our more indiscriminating friends were hoping for. She came down with Dan and myself to Dairy Mart to get more cheap cigars when I tell Dan that I ran into my friend Amelia there just the other day. Holly goes crazy with drink because she’s also friends with Amelia and begs us to take her over to Amelia’s house to invite her out. Seems like a great idea because Amelia is a very good person and Holly would probably attach herself onto her instead of any random guy at our party. We’d get a cool person to hang out with and a babysitter for our sweet drunken chickpea. So off we went into the night to send out emissaries of drunken debauchery to Amelia’s house. We took Holly’s car and Dan and I sat in the back while Holly sat in the passenger seat giving directions to the driver. It was a bit cramped because Holly had some groceries in the car from earlier. We arrive at a good size domicile with a yard full of trees and we park at the end. Our driver who I can’t remember right now threw the keys back to Holly who didn’t even attempt to catch them. We all started up the drive towards the house like we were the drunken Reservoir Dogs. Till Dan made mention of the bags in the car. Holly at this point starts to laugh hysterically and then slips into a realm of crazy reserved for lunatics and the clergy. She rumbles (mixture of stumbles and runs) back to the car and pulls the bags out and states in a demeanor that makes one wonder if this was her real intention all along that we should toilet paper all the trees and such. Our driver is stoked and starts to help her get ready. Dan and I feel that this is a little beneath us having matured to better pranks and levels vandalism naturally. It's high up here on our pedestal. Across the way stands horses in a wooden fenced in area. Dan and I quietly and carefully break down a portion of the fence and then stir the horses up a bit. We walk back towards our ride knowing that if the horses wander into the next yard it will be all kinds of funny even if we never find out what happened. Sudenly, lights come on at Amelia’s and Holly panics and that’s when we realize that she doesn’t have the keys. Her booze-o-matic decides that this is a good time to tell her brain to shut her legs and arms off. So here we are retracing her steps to find the keys, which are of course, right next to the car while she sits like a sack of potatoes that we have to stow into the car.
We get into the car and drive off back to the Oregon where we chuck Holly on the drunk tank mattress and go about having a great rest of the party. By this time Doctor Robinson has been off work for a bit and joins the fray to hear what we’ve been up to. Some time goes by and the Holly Zombie stirs and keys in tow strives like hell to leave. We go out after her and Dan runs up next to the car. She runs his foot over and stops only after Dan falls to the ground. That’s when she decides that she is too drunk to drive. Not the fact that we are chasing her around drunk as well. Nor the fact that we had someone else drive out to Amelia’s house. Not even the fact that we left her to sleep it off on our drunk tank. No no it took running a man’s foot over. Well we took her back into the house and Dan got to end the evening in more pain then he started with. That’s how it went sometimes at the Oregon. Sometimes you had great adventures with little to no injury. Other times….. Well those are stories for a later date.
See you all further on down the road.
Mike
posted by Mike | 1:11 PM
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